tallyyoungblood

Gideon takes a breath in through her nose. She and Tally have made out before, obviously, but it's usually laughing, almost daring each other to see how far they get before one of them pulls back and changes the subject (or, lately, they separate to fall asleep—Tally in her bed; Gideon on the floor on the mattress she'd hauled from her own room, hands linked). This feels—softer, more intent. She breaks the kiss to nuzzle into the curve of Tally's neck. "We should, um. Maybe move somewhere that isn't the kitchen."